nobody baby but you and me
by fatedtopretendd
Summary: He holds her close and she feels close to him. RM season 3 missing scenes and partial rewrite.


A/N: Mostly canon with some liberties. Hope you enjoy and please leave a review!

 _When love is real, you don't have to show it_

 _When it is true, then everyone will know it_

' _Cause there'll be no one but_

 _You and me_

'You and Me' - Penny & the Quarters

.. .. ..

Ryan sits at the edge of the bed, fingers carelessly flicking through the copy of Cosmo tossed to the side. His eyes follow Marissa around the room, watching her prepare her things for tomorrow.

"You know you could just home school with me," he says, head tilting to the side, the slightest smirk appearing.

"I'm sure Sandy would approve," Marissa replies with a laugh.

"I think he could be convinced. He _was_ willing to let you move in," he challenges back. Marissa glances at him, her gaze softening at her boyfriend's efforts for them to be together. She walks towards him. She's about to lean against the corner bedpost when he takes her hand, pulling her into his lap.

"I doubt we would get a lot of work done," she tells him. He tries to think of a witty retort but his mind is fixed on the expanse of skin offered by her loosely buttoned shirt. His mind drifts to two nights ago on the beach, sleeping with Marissa for the first time. He gets a little hard from just the thought.

Seth had joked about their years of sexual tension leading to that night. He had not offered a reaction, shrugging Seth off but he thinks it really had been two years in the making. All those times of teasing each other, never giving in totally to the temptation had made him want her that much more. He looks up at her now, wondering if she wants him just as much. They share a look, both them sensing each other's desire.

His hands slowly unbutton her shirt and his fingers softly feel the lace of her bra. He kisses against the fabric, fully aware of how impatient it makes her. She pulls him up to meet her lips, kissing him hard, legs wrapping firmer around his waist. His hands move down her body, unclasping her bra before reaching beneath her skirt. There's an involuntary moan from Marissa at the contact and he can't help but smirk. She wants to roll her eyes at him and not give him the satisfaction but fuck, he's really too good.

She grabs his hand, her breath ragged as she tells him, "Not now."

It takes him a moment to understand and by the time he has, she has his belt unbuckled.

.. .. ..

He offers to drive her home from the diner, even though Summer is right there. He's trying to say he wants to talk, to make things right and he hates that she hesitates for a moment. But then Marissa nods, a solemnity in her eyes almost masking the gratitude.

When inside the car, she can barely bring herself to look Ryan in the eye. Her gaze is directed to the window, too many concerns whirling through her mind to raise just one. She can feel his annoyance next to her. He took the first step, now it was her turn.

They stop at a red light, his eyes darting towards her. She catches his reflection in the window, watches him open his mouth.

"I'm sorry," she says before he can. She looks at him nervously and he stares back, brow creased slightly in thought. The signal turns green and he is forced to look ahead.

"Why?" he says at last.

Marissa shrugs, yet again confused and if she's honest, probably a little angry. She wanted _him_ to apologise.

"I guess, because," she begins and she realises that she really is sorry. "I'm sorry if you felt hurt, about me and Johnny. It's not, it's _really_ not like that."

Ryan nods, offering her a brief smile to show he believes her. It melts her heart just a little bit. She reaches for his hand on the steering wheel, seeking the contact they have gone too long without.

By the time they reach Summer's house, they both forget the purpose of the car ride. He looks at her, she bites her lip and he is incapable of not wanting her. She's leaning across, lips reaching his and bodies soon pressing together in that small car seat. Her hands slip underneath his shirt but he finds himself stopping her.

They're both a little out of breath.

"I shouldn't have told you to go back to sleep," he says seriously. She is forced to look him in the eye, denied the opportunity to shy away.

"I didn't know what to say," Ryan admits sadly. His hands rest on her hips, thumb carelessly brushing a patch of skin where her shirt has ridden up.

"I wasn't looking for you to really say anything," Marissa replies. "Or maybe...I just, I think I needed to hear you say it would be okay."

"Would you believe me if I did?"

"Yeah. I always have."

.. .. ..

In the darkness, she can feel the cuts on his hand, the ones he tries badly to pass off as an accident from soccer. In the corner, she eyes the punching bag. She thinks she saw a speckle of red on it earlier.

She wonders whether he will ever confide in her.

.. .. ..

"Did you sleep with DJ?" Ryan asks one night. They're lying in the poolhouse, Ryan on his side, eyes fixed on Marissa.

"Why?"

She's surprised by the question.

Ryan shrugs, tries to backtrack, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's ok." A beat passes, then another. Marissa tilts her head towards him, "I did," she confirms. She observes his face, tries to determine his reaction but Ryan gives so little away.

She used to think about him and Theresa, hated the fact that Theresa would know Ryan in ways she might never do.

"Does it matter?" she asks him.

"No," he answers, offering a smile in reassurance. Marissa turns to her side, watches him incredulously.

"Did you and Lindsay?"

It feels like a formality asking and he clearly sees the question coming when he tells her, "No."

Marissa raises an eyebrow, mild amusement creeping across her face.

"Did you think we had?" Ryan asks. His hand reaches across, running up her back.

Marissa smiles in response, ignores his question and leans in to kiss him. He doesn't get to be the only enigmatic one in this relationship.

He kisses her back, moving on top of her but stopping short of deepening it further. His eyes narrow in contemplation.

"What about Alex?" he questions.

"What about her?" Marissa retorts and grins at Ryan's reddening cheeks.

"Nevermind," he says

"I didn't realise you thought about this," Marissa comments.

"I don't."

He grows defensive, causing her to giggle.

"Relax, I'm just teasing." Marissa pulls him closer, lips grazing the corner of his mouth. "And yes, we did," she whispers.

..

After, when they're curled up together under the sheets, Marissa asks tentatively, "Is it different? Sleeping with me compared to…"

 _Theresa._

 _All those girls from Chino, that you never want to tell me about._

Marissa can't bring herself to complete the sentence.

Ryan sighs and she senses frustration. But then he holds her face, blue irises burning into each other and she sees sincerity. A tenderness that no one else has ever given her before.

"Of course, it is," he says softly. "I've never loved anyone else."

.. .. ..

A selection of leaflets relating to Berkeley lies across the poolhouse bed. Ryan looks up from his physics homework to see Marissa poring over the accommodation offerings.

"You know," he begins, "I never really asked you if you were interested about going anywhere else. Like if you wanted to get out of California or had some childhood dream to go to Harvard."

Marissa giggles, a huge grin coming across her face.

"You really are the cutest," she chides.

"Well, do you?" Ryan reiterates, hoping the blush lessens.

"No, Berkeley is where I want to be."

.. .. ..

She succeeds in getting Ryan into the poolhouse without waking up the Cohens. She's never seen him drink so much at a party - it's probably the first time she has seen him truly drunk. He collapses onto the poolhouse bed, dragging her with him. She tries to get up but he holds on to her wrist.

"Ryan, c'mon, let me go. You need to drink some water."

"No, please, stay here," he begs. "I don't want you to leave." He gives her his puppydog look and she's defenceless.

"Ok, but just for a bit," she concedes as she lies down next to him, arm wrapping across his torso.

"I miss you at school," he reveals. "I worry that I miss you more than you miss me."

His eyes fall downcast and he's got a silly pout on his face that makes her want to laugh and kiss it away but she senses that he may really believe this.

"That's not true," she assures softly. "I miss you too, _just as much_."

"But you have Johnny," he points out. Even in his drunken state, he senses the mood change. "I'm sorry," he quickly mumbles.

"I don't want Johnny. I want you," Marissa insists firmly.

.. .. ..

Johnny tells her he loves her and turns it all to shit. Like it had to be the trauma of the accident. The stress of his broken surfing career. Anything but real feelings.

He has to get over it either way.

.. .. ..

"Does the punching bag help?" she asks one day. The cuts on his hands were back.

He is silent for the longest time. She is too. She's tired at his constant resistance to sharing what he is feeling.

"Yes, it does," he finally replies.

"Who are you angry at?" she asks.

"No one," Ryan attempts.

"Bullshit."

"It doesn't matter anyway."

"Of course it does!" She can feel her eyes get watery. "Why can't you just try?"

God, she hates the way she sounds. Every bit the weak, teenage girl. Ryan's glaring at her and she hates it when he looks at her like that. Like she's the one being unfair.

"You mean try the same way you talk to me instead of Johnny," he shouts back.

Her mouth snaps open. He's almost definitely speaking out of spite but it's not like she's feeling any more rationale.

"Fuck you, Ryan."

..

He finds her at the lifeguard stand (where else). Walks up wordlessly and sits down next to her. A sigh escapes.

 _This has to stop_ , he thinks.

"Marissa," he says but she doesn't look at him. He came here to apologise and now he feels like starting another fight. "Marissa, please," he repeats. He hears a muffled sound. A moment later, he realises it was a sob. "Fuck, Marissa, I'm sorry." This time, he doesn't wait for her permission to pull her into a hug. It's moments within which the tears wet his shirt and he hears the soft murmurings of an apology whispered into his ear.

"Sorry, for all this. The tears, everything. I feel like I overreacted," Marissa tells him minutes later. He smiles back, his silent _okay_.

"I hate how much we're fighting," Marissa sniffles

"Me too," Ryan agrees. He offers her his hand and she willingly accepts.

"No more fights. Deal?" he asks.

Marissa lets out a laugh because they both know that will never happen.

"Deal," she agrees anyway.

.. .. ..

Near the end of winter break, Marissa takes Ryan to visit her paternal grandparents at their lake house. He learns that Julie is on terrible terms with them. They never approved of her and it soured their relationship with their son.

He thinks there's an irony in the situation.

..

Marissa greets her grandmother with a hug. Ryan follows after. When the elderly blonde women spots him, she eyes him up and then. If he didn't know better, he would think Julie was her daughter.

"You must be Ryan," she remarks. She lends him a smile, precisely measured. "I'm Elizabeth," she introduces, extending her hand.

"Yeah, um, it's a pleasure to meet you. Marissa's told me so much," he responds, shaking her hand.

"Has she now? And I thought she had forgotten us," her grandmother comments. Marissa laughs it away.

"That's not true."

"Come, let me see where your grandfather is. He's been looking forward to your visit all week."

..

"So, how's your mother?" her grandfather, David, asks over dinner.

"She's fine," Marissa responds, silently thinking about their current living situation and the events of the last year.

"And Kaitlin," her grandmother follows-up.

"Kaitlin's good. She's in France right now, I think. Ski trip."

"I remember a ski trip your grandfather and I took in 1983. Nothing quite like the Alps. Ryan, have you ever been to Europe?"

Ryan eyes jump up from his roast beef.

"No, I haven't," he answers self-consciously.

"Well you must go. Both of you. There's nothing quite like being young and in love in Paris."

Ryan looks across the table to Marissa and she gives him a beaming smile; he thinks he could get lost in it.

"Yeah, I would love to," he says.

The dinner continues with ordinary chit-chat, questions about college and plans for the summer. When they sit down for a nightcap, Elizabeth asks him about Kirsten.

"How is she?" she asks and Ryan spots a new warmth in her voice.

"She's really good. Her and Sandy, they're both great."

Elizabeth nods, appropriately approving.

"She was such a wonderful girl. She was almost like a daughter to us," Elizabeth explains.

Ryan looks at Marissa, slightly uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation.

Before she can intervene, her grandfather speaks up.

"Jimmy messed that one up," he says gruffly. "He messed a lot of things up."

"David, please," Elizabeth interjects.

"I haven't said anything unreasonable," he protests. "We all know the facts here. It's no secret what our son has done. He's a thief and a liar."

"Have some manners. _We have guests._ "

"Will you stop pretending for one goddamn second?" he exclaims.

Marissa's grandfather stands up in irritation, glancing momentarily at Ryan and Marissa. He takes his glass of whisky and walks out of the room. Her grandmother takes a deep breath and addresses them.

"I'm so sorry for his behaviour."

"It's ok. It's not like it's not true," Marissa replies awkwardly. Her grandmother's expression saddens for the first time that night and regret clouds her face.

"Let me show you two your rooms," she says simply.

..

"Are you ok?" Ryan asks Marissa when they're alone.

"Yeah," she says. "I am, really."

She turns around, so they're lying face to face on the bed.

"I think I've come to terms with the fact that my dad might not always be there in my life. Not permanently."

Ryan places a hand on her cheek, brushes the strands of hair aside. He knows how much it must hurt her to admit this.

"When my dad got put in jail, at the start I thought maybe he would be released early. He told me he didn't do it and I believed him," Ryan tells her, a sardonic smile on his lips. "I thought maybe someone would come, prove his innocence. Save the day."

"Do you ever miss him?" Marissa asks.

Ryan shakes his head but his eyes linger on hers, as though uncertain. He takes a quiet intake of breath.

"Sometimes I miss what could have been," he whispers.

Marissa runs her hand up and down his arm. She wants to tell him she's sorry, that he deserved a childhood that was so much better than the one he had. When they kiss, she thinks he understands.

..

Marissa finds her grandmother sitting alone on the patio the next morning. Her tea grows cold next to her.

"Hi."

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, everything was perfect. Thanks."

Her grandmother nods, gaze returning to watch the water fountain in the garden.

"How are you and your mother really?" her grandmother asks, eyes still averted.

"Um, we're managing," Marissa answers.

"If you need money, then just ask. You are, after all, family," she says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Marissa looks away uncomfortably. She recalls her mother's warning to not say anything to her grandparents. "We're fine, really."

Her grandmother glances at her and takes a sip of her tea. "In small communities such as ours, people talk. I hear things, rumours if you like." Marissa thinks she is about bring up Caleb but instead she continues, "I can't help but wonder, is it wise to be with him?"

For a moment Marissa wonders who her grandmother is referring to until realisation dawns.

"You can't believe the gossip," she states sharply.

"I know. That's why I'm asking."

Marissa sighs, feeling the infuriating deja vu of past fights. " _I love him_."

There's a lull in the conversation, a tepid hostility ringing until they hear footsteps coming down the staircase.

"Well, he's better than that foolish boy Luke," her grandmother finally returns.

The two women share a look and smile. It's a settlement.

.. .. ..

Marissa lies on her front, Ryan's right hand lightly massaging her bare back.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you had come to Newport earlier?" she thinks out loud.

"Probably more fights with Luke," he replies.

"Probably."

Ryan observes her for a moment, contemplating his question. "Why were you with Luke for so long?"

Marissa gives a light shrug, "We were happy once."

"What changed?"

"I guess we outgrew each other." Marissa turns slightly to look at Ryan, "We broke up in freshman year after some silly fight. It was just for a month. Then I went on this date and he found out. He begged me to get back together."

Ryan laughs at the story. "And you took him back."

Marissa laughs too, "He wrote me a letter. It was sweet. But honestly, I don't know, it's hard to explain Luke. He was always just _there,_ like a fixed part of my life."

Ryan nods, his fingers running lightly through her hair.

"I'm glad we met," he says softly. Marissa smiles back, eyes sparkling as she whispers _me too_.

.. .. ..

One afternoon when they are alone in the kitchen, Marissa finds herself asking Kirsten about how she and her father broke up.

Kirsten observes her with a curious skepticism, though not unkind.

"Jimmy was my oldest friend," she explains. "My closest friend at the time. It felt a lot like love."

"But it wasn't," Marissa completes.

"It was and it wasn't. It wasn't really _love_ ," she concludes.

.. .. ..

Summer tells her about her latest fight with Seth. He went rogue on one of their schemes and told Taylor's mom that Dr. Roberts had genital warts. The whole of Newport probably thinks this now.

Marissa laughs out loud, "I'll never understand how Seth's mind works."

"God, me neither," Summer says. "And I'm dating the idiot."

Marissa smiles back at Summer but her eyes dim and Summer picks up on the vibe.

"Coop, what's up?" she asks.

Marissa shrugs, shaking her head.

" _Coop._ "

"It's just," Marissa fidgets with her necklace, "I wish Ryan and I had fights that were this simple. I wish our relationship was more simple."

Summer offers her an apologetic look.

"You know it can be with you two as well," Summer says and Marissa wonders what she really means. But she doesn't ask, not wanting to get a lecture on Johnny or recommendations to talk to Ryan.

Instead she sighs, mumbles an unconvincing, _I know_.

"I thought you two were doing fine. Didn't you sleep over last night?"

"Yeah, I did." Summer gives her a questioning look to elaborate. "But that's different," Marissa shrugs. "That's sex."

She isn't even sure what she means by that. Summer rolls her eyes, not probing further.

Marissa wants to tell her that her relationship with Ryan cannot really be simple. Neither of them are simple people.

.. .. ..

Being back in Harbor was meant to close the distance. Sometimes it feels like it has only got wider. But it's not the geography that matters. It's about boys in her life falling in love with her and the conversations they are wholly incapable of having.

When it is just them together, on that poolhouse bed with a thin sheet between them, she thinks she gets a glimpse of the real Ryan. There is momentary trust, too palpable for it to be a deception. Peaceful and content, they let their defences down.

He holds her close and she feels close to him. She wishes the feeling could be forever.

.. .. ..

She sits with Seth on his bedroom floor, a joint shared between them.

"What's going on with you?" she asks.

"What's going on with _you_?" Seth fires back.

"Don't change the subject."

Seth sighs and groans and mumbles incomprehensibly before finally stating, "I fucked up Brown."

"So?" Marissa says and it's so matter of fact, he laughs. She joins in and it's probably the effect of the weed but it feels good to laugh.

"So what, right?" Seth repeats but his despondence seeps through.

"We all mess up," Marissa consoles.

"But it was my dream," he laments. She thinks the last time she saw him this sad was when Ryan was returning to Chino.

There's a knock on the door and they hear Ryan's voice. When he walks in to find them, they feel like kids being caught.

"This isn't what I had in mind when I said talk to Seth," Ryan comments to Marissa.

"It's just a joint," she says. It's a silent plea to not fight.

He surprises her when he comes and sits next to her.

..

"You know me too well," Marissa mumbles to him resentfully when they're in the poolhouse.

It's not a lie exactly, a half-truth maybe. What she actually wants to say is, _you know me better than I know you_.

He seems to work it out, telling her, "That's not true."

.. .. ..

Johnny dies and in front of their fucking eyes. Oliver, Trey, Johnny - each person that comes into their lives getting a step closer to death.

..

Ryan finds her in the trailer, curled on her bed, her intermittent sobs the only audible noise. He knocks on the bedroom door, doubtful that he is wanted. When Marissa looks up, eyes red and tear-stained, he is wracked with grief.

"Do you want me to stay?" he checks softly.

The seconds lapse, the silence painstakingly deafening. Then Marissa nods, tells him yes and he lets out a breath he did not realise he was holding in. Ryan removes his jacket and comes to sit on the bed. Marissa turns her head, so that she is again looking away. He wonders what to do, whether to say anything, to apologise as they always seem to do lately.

In the end, he settles for a kiss on her cheek. He lies down next to her and his arms wrap tightly around her frame. It could be his wishful thinking but he swears he hears a whispered thank you.

..

Days later, as they watch the sunset on the beach, Marissa tells him, "It was never about Johnny."

He is perplexed at the statement but he has always been a patient listener. Marissa fidgets with the strands of her hair, afraid to continue.

"It came down to Trey. I needed to talk about him and the shooting, I just needed to talk and Johnny was there. He listened and he seemed to understand. I was grateful. He was a good friend but that's all it was with Johnny. It never approached anything more. Not for me."

Ryan's face falters, "You could have spoken to me."

"Did you really want to have that conversation?"

They both fall silent. Ryan's lips are pursed, a silent concession to her accusation.

"I know it was my fault too," Marissa acknowledges. "I stopped trying to speak to you, it wasn't an easy conversation to start, or to have, and it got harder the more time passed."

"It's difficult for me to talk about him, not just with you but anyone. I can barely even think about what he tried to do," he grimaces at the thought. "But I want to try. Do you want to try?"

He looks at Marissa intently, to the point that she is nearly moved to tears when she promises, " _Yes_."

She moves tentatively, placing her legs on either side of his thighs. His hands go to cup her face, so that their gazes meet in a perfect line. They kiss with burning commitment and it feels like absolution.

..

He takes her to Baskin Robbins after, waits for her to deliberate her choice.

"Cookies n' cream," Marissa orders without hesitation.

"You sure?" Ryan checks. "You never decide so quickly."

Marissa nods confidently, a smile escaping when she remembers her conversation with Kaitlin.

"What?" Ryan says, noticing her expression.

"I'm never as happy with anything else," she explains with a coy smile. The metaphor alludes him but that doesn't stop him from smiling back.

They walk down the pier, ice-cream in hand.

fin.


End file.
